I will color my life with the courage that you've shown me
by justicemuffins
Summary: [SECRET AVENGERS] When it's all over, Phil just can't find a way to let go. (Phil Coulson/Nick Fury)


Given everything that had happened, Phil figures it was the least Maria could do by letting him dodge his psych eval to be here. He's no fool—he knows he can't dodge it forever. Nor does he want to. Not this time. All the shit they've been through, well, it was bound to catch up sooner or later. He can't help but feel embarrassed by it. After all, he hadn't been the only one who'd nearly died up in space. Nick had been there for all of it and not only that, he'd gone for Round Two with the Fury without him.

But Phil had been responsible. He'd nearly gotten his best friend killed. Had nearly killed them both. It's not something he's about to forget any time soon. As if that hadn't been enough, the reason Nick is here, now, is also because of him. Phil had needed to go rogue, he doesn't think there's any question about that, but Maria had asked Nick to investigate. Because Nick knows him best, because Nick cares in a way no one else does. And for his trouble, he'd gotten a face full of acid out of Phil's locker. No, Phil hadn't put it there, but it doesn't make him feel any less responsible.

"So what's this I hear about a little pink dress?"

Phil is tugged away from his musings by the question and finds Nick regarding him with a weary, if fond, expression. He can't help but smile himself, leaning forward in his seat.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he asks.

"What I'd like to know is why I haven't seen this part of your wardrobe before," Nick remarks.

"And when you get to fuck me in it," Phil tacks on.

"I figured that goes without saying," Nick says.

"Well, once you're out of here," Phil says.

Phil stares down at his hands, clasped at the edge of the bed. He can feel Nick watching him, knows he's being silently evaluated. He can't bring himself to look up. He's tired. He's not ready for the conversation he knows is coming.

"Talk to me, Cheese."

Phil shakes his head.

"Tell me you're okay."

"That's not something you need to worry about right now."

"Like hell it isn't."

"Marcus, please."

He doesn't mean for his voice to sound so small. But this is really something Nick shouldn't need to be worrying about right now and he really doesn't want to talk about it. Nick has enough on his plate without piling this on top of it.

"I almost lost you. Twice. And both times were because of m—"

"No. Get that out of your head right now," Nick interrupts him. "How many times have you saved my ass over the years?"

"About as many as you've saved mine," Phil answers. "But I could save you a million times and all it would take is once. Once where I fuck up. That happened twice and we just got lucky. But the next time…"

"You didn't fuck up. You were right, remember? About Sokotra, about Derrida, about it all," Nick reminds him. "There's a reason I tell people you're the smart one."

"Wasn't very smart this time," Phil snorts. "I was… _scared_. I didn't know who to trust and at the very least I should have known that I could trust you. But I didn't. And because of that you got hurt. You almost died and I was half-way around the world running scared and chasing something that I didn't even know was true or not."

Nick is quiet for a moment. "You haven't been sleeping, I take it."

"I have. A bit," Phil says.

It's not a total lie. He's managed to catch two or three hours of sleep at a time, it's just that he happens to wake up terrified. The images just won't leave him, just won't let him be. He wakes and he's too scared to try sleeping again; afraid that when he closes his eyes, he'll see a vastly different outcome to their adventure in space, afraid that he'll wake to find this is all a dream and Nick really _hadn't_ made it. Nick's hand covers both of his, squeezing to get his attention.

"Hey. We're gonna get through this," he says. "Understand?"

"I just… There shouldn't be anything for us to get through," Phil says, frustrated. "Everything we've been through, everything we've seen… why now? Why can't I just get over it?"

"You'd never ask anyone else to get over it," Nick says seriously. "So don't ask that of yourself."

"This is different," Phil argues. "I should be able to handle this. I shouldn't be reacting like this."

"It's not different," Nick says, beginning to sound angry. "Look at me. No, I mean it, _look at me._"

Phil drags his gaze up to the other man and sees the mix of hurt and anger and worry in his lone eye. And god, does it hurt to see that. It hurts to know that he's continuing to cause Nick pain and if he didn't want to be with him so badly, he might crawl off and find some place to keep himself as far away as possible. Part of him thinks it might just be better if he did.

"The kinds of things we've gone up against and the kinds of things we've seen, we got thrown into all of it. There was no preparing, we got tossed in and we've had to deal with it as we've gone along," Nick says. "I'm surprised we've made it this far without one of us being affected by it all. This isn't weakness. It doesn't make you less than anyone else out there with us. When all of this started…"

Nick shakes his head.

"You've had my back since before this started. Long before. You could have let me go and had a normal life, but you followed me. You came with me and you've had my back through all of the fucked up shit we've had come our way," he says. He squeezes Phil's hand, harder than before. "Don't you dare think that I won't have yours now."

Phil is finding it hard to swallow around the lump in his throat and Christ, he doesn't want to do this here. He's supposed to be the strong one right now. He needs to be. For all the ways he's failed Nick, he needs to hold it together so he can begin to try and fix them. But when he bows his head and feels the other man's hand stroking his hair, he can't hold back. A sob escapes him even as he tries to pull it back and he feels Nick tugging at his shirt, trying to pull him up onto the bed with him. It takes some maneuvering, but they both manage to fit and Phil has to be careful not to hurt his partner. As much as he wants to hold Nick, the looming threat of causing him more pain keeps him warily pressed to the edge of the bed.

"Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me all night?" Nick demands.

Phil doesn't laugh, doesn't answer. He remains where he is, watching the other man like he'll shatter if Phil so much as breaths wrong. Nick takes over for him, leaning in and kissing him hard. He can't help but melt into it, needing the contacts after having gone so long without it. But he feels himself beginning to shake as the moments pass, his breath coming too fast which prompts Nick to pull away.

"You need to get out of your head," Nick tells him. "You're overthinking this. This, right now. I'm gonna be fine and it _wasn't your fault_."

"I'm sorry," Phil says lamely, trying to control his breathing. "I'm sorry, I just can't stop thinking… how close you were to…"

"But I didn't," Nick reminds him. "I'm right here."

"I know. I know," Phil says tiredly. "I'm trying."

"It'll take time and you have to give yourself that. You have to afford yourself the same patience you do everyone else," Nick tells him. "We're going to get you help. We're going to do this together and I'm not leaving you. Got it?"

"Got it," Phil answers quietly.

He doesn't know why he says it. They've never said it before. It just never felt like something that needed to be said between them. But he'd found himself regretting not saying it when they returned to earth and he found himself regretting not saying it when he discovered what had happened to Nick while he'd been gone.

"I love you."

For a minute he regrets saying it. He wishes there was a way he could take it back as it hangs awkwardly in the air between them. They don't say it. They just don't. But now he's gone and said it.

"Yeah," Nick says, squeezing his hand. "I love you, too. Maybe we could stand to actually say it once in a while."

"Yeah," Phil agrees shakily.

It's not perfect. What they have never has been. But it's what works for them and he knows they wouldn't have it any other way. Phil knows he's not okay, but Nick isn't either. And if they have to be broken, it may as well be together. It feels hopeless now; he feels weighed down by an anchor, sinking down, down, down beneath the waves as he watches the surface grow further and further away. Nick was right: it'll take time. This isn't the kind of obstacle he's used to facing. But so long as he has Nick to help him swim, so long as they help each other, he knows they'll never drown.


End file.
